


Security Blankets

by Irelando



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irelando/pseuds/Irelando
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The more time you spend in the company of James Tiberius Kirk, the more you begin to understand human behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Security Blankets

The room is filled with flames. The temperature readout on your suit’s visor is unreadable against the light of the fire, but you are certain it is well into triple digits.

A beam crashes down somewhere behind you. You calculate the building will collapse within the next two minutes; accounting for the time it will take you to reach safety, you have approximately 43.6 seconds’ leeway to look for more children.

Approximately 24.3 seconds remain when you catch sight of a shock of blonde hair. A child. You push through the flames and debris and take hold of the boy’s waist. There is no time to try and calm him; you must leave immediately.

But your attempt to lift the child away from the burning beam beside him is aborted midway. You look again. It is difficult to see amongst the smoke, but you can make out one small hand clutching a ragged scrap of cloth caught beneath the debris.

The child is screaming, no doubt half blind and in a panic. You calculate the odds of being able to reason with him at 7.3 percent. Unacceptable. Instead, as logic demands, you pry the child’s hand free of the fabric and lift him to your shoulder.

Three seconds before your two minute mark passes, the building’s timbers let out a final groaning sound. It implodes in a great plume of flame.

You reached a safe distance with several seconds to spare. By the time the house collapses, the screaming child is being seen to by Dr. McCoy and his team. The Captain is with him, his formidable charm focused on keeping the injured children as calm as possible.

The fire rages for another 11.6 minutes before the human fire team manages to bring it under control. You observe the actions of the fire team, noting their calm coordination amidst the general chaos. It is reassuring to know that humans are not entirely incapable of eschewing emotions in times of crisis.

Once the flames are sufficiently doused, you remove your helmet. The air smells of burning material, but it is illogical to continue draining the suit’s air reserves.

It is truly astounding how the Captain manages to cover himself in smudges of soot, despite his reluctant agreement that you and the heat suit were much more likely to be successful in rescuing the children.

“How are you doing, Spock?”

You catalogue. Some minor skin irritations from the suit. Mild fatigue. “I am fine, Captain.”

“Need some help getting the suit off?”

You can see no reason to refuse.

\--

As is your custom, you share your meal break that evening with the Captain, Nyota, and Doctor McCoy. The humans are silent. Subdued. You have spent enough time around them to understand why. Though the _Enterprise_ crew were able to save more than the colonists would have been able to otherwise, you know it is not enough. You were not able to save everyone.

You deliberate for a moment before speaking. “I observed a curious emotional response in the final child I removed from the building.”

“What’s that?” Jim asked after a moment.

“He seemed very attached to a scrap of fabric. It was trapped beneath a burning beam, but he would not willingly release it.”

“Probably his blankie,” the Captain said dismissively, taking a large bite of his sandwich.

“Blankie?” You are not familiar with the term.

“Security blanket,” Nyota clarifies. “A lot of kids that age have one.”

\--

A security blanket, your research later that night reveals, is a variation on the idea of a comfort object, an item (often a stuffed animal, if not a blanket) used as a tool to keep human children calm.

You set the PADD aside, unable to shake a feeling of dissatisfaction. While you understand that human children’s emotional responses are indulged far more than Vulcan children’s, fostering such a dependence on an inanimate object is far beyond illogical. The child was so fixated on the illusion of security that he was very nearly killed.

Human parenting leaves much to be desired, you decide with distaste.

\--

Eight months to the day from that night, you happen upon the document as you purge old data from your PADD. You pause the deletion process and read the document over again.

This time, you think you understand. You remain unconvinced of the wisdom in allowing it, but you can see how something so small can bring comfort, against all logic.

“Spock,” a sleep-slurred voice says from behind you. “This bed is awfully cold without you.”

The data can wait. You set the PADD down, stand, and cross to the bed. The regulation mattress is small, but there is enough room for you to lie down beside the form already sprawled out atop it, though you must first lift an unresisting arm out of the way to do so.

No sooner are you settled than a familiar warm body rolls on top of you, draped like a blanket. Warm breath stirs the hairs on the nape of your neck as Jim nestles his head in beside yours, nose brushing the skin behind your ear. Once, you would have found such contact intrusive. But the warmth of him, the sound of his sleep-steady breaths, the gentle brush of his mind against your own… These things ground you as firmly as gravity once held your feet to the rock of a planet that no longer exists.

Yes, you think, his hair soft between your fingers. You understand.


End file.
